Thursday, February 28, 2013

Six years overdue, I finally received the shiny card granting me the privilege to responsibly and safely operate an automobile. Several trips on days with much unwelcome rains and endless waiting in pointless, disorganized queues resulted in my name printed on a Restriction Two, Condition A non-professional driver's license.

It was a license to a new freedom.

As I was driving home with my mom, she told me how careful I was since now, I had a license to protect. Before, I was driving under a student license -- lawful consequences of my actions had little weight on my shoulders. But now, things are much, much different. Each and every missed red light is now against my name. Each yield sign driven without pause can put other motorists in danger because of me. Every lane change without a polite signal can cause much unneeded stress because of my lack of discipline.

She was right.

As I patiently waited for pedestrians to cross, I suddenly became fearful of driving. There are so many things to be aware of all at the same time. There are so many things that can happen that can cost lives. There are so many responsibilities tied to driving, and I am not so sure I like them all.

Gently stepping on the gas, I firmly held the steering wheel as the car moved forward. I have received not only a license to freedom, but a license to do things I have never done before. I am no longer just a passenger. I can now steer my own vehicle and bring it to places it has never been to.

Now, I can follow all those uncharted roads in my life because for once, I have proven that I can: the shiny license bearing my name has given me freedom to believe in myself.

Thursday, February 21, 2013

A few days ago, a very unexpected mail from my practice manager found its way to my tediously organized inbox. I didn't quite understand the subject line and honestly thought I was wrongly included in the mail. Filled with curiosity, I clicked on the link and read the contents.

It was a mail stating I was chosen to be a lead of a new project and was slated to train in New Zealand for two to three months. The first thing that entered my mind was to which label should the mail fall under, because it was the first time I had received such.

It was an opportunity that so few people in the office receive. I wasn't happy; rather a complete feeling of being torn overwhelmed me. My heart began to race as the news started to sink in. My hands became clumsy as it shook uncontrollably. I managed to reply to her saying I want to talk to her about some concerns regarding the new project. After nervously sending the reply and swallowing the tension as hard as I could, I waited for her response, and soon enough, it came.

Hours after the email, I found myself sitting inside the workspace of my project manager. I told her that I was feeling anxious about the new assignment, that it wasn't what I wanted to be. After two years in my company, I have finally found what career I wanted to have. I told her that it would be such a loss if I turned down the golden opportunity to train in another country for a couple of months, but I then I doubted if I would excel and step up in the new project since it laid outside of my sphere of interests. She told me that I shouldn't be disheartened, because I have already set my goals, and the offer wasn't aligned to what I wanted to become: an expert in the business technology knowledge of the airline industry.

In her experience and in a true programmer's words, she shared to me that an opportunity not chosen is not a missed opportunity when that opportunity is not what one really wants. The feeling of resentment comes from the fact that it was a big offer for someone like me. But I realized a deeper sense of guilt will take root in me if ever I decide to leave behind what I love doing just for the sake of not missing an opportunity.

That mail I received was an opportunity for me to stand for what I wanted and desired to be.

Wednesday, January 30, 2013

Sunday, January 27, 2013

After four years of being with me, my laptop, Midnight, is sadly showing signs that he's bound for a replacement sometime soon.

A few weeks before, I've noticed that his backlights were failing. A few days ago, it happened: the backlights died out, which made Midnight true to his name. After a night's stay in the shop and whipping out a relatively sizable amount of money, he's back with me to write this entry. Being the first time in Midnight's stay with me that I needed to ask for a technician to patch him up, it bothered me to the point that I was very happy and relieved that he's fine again. Even if the problem wasn't too critical, the thought of me losing Midnight made me furrow my forehead in deep worry.

If there was something that knows me the most after all these years, it would definitely be Midnight. We've been through thick and thin: he's seen my happiest moments, and he's also been a part of the gloomy events that I learned a lot from. Midnight is a one of the testaments of what I have become and what I have created, and losing him would mean losing yet again a big part of the things I hold dear.

But alas, it is sad to say that I confide in an inanimate being, never able to return the emotions I deeply need.

I've lost so much, but I decided to remain strong. But it would definitely break me if I would lose you, Midnight.

Thursday, January 17, 2013

Earlier in the tenth anniversary celebration of the company I'm working for, an acquaintance of mine casually walked up to me and shook my hand proceeded by the usual arm wrestling shake. He asked me how I was since apparently, he was concerned on how bad my cough seemed. Yesterday evening, we met inside the men's room while I hacked loudly in efforts to expel some stubborn phlegm that has been in my throat too long. Noticing it was him, I immediately entered a cubicle and sealed it shut while I continued to bark away.

"Ang lala na ng ubo mo ah, ayos ka lang ba?"

"Hindi naman. Oo, medyo puyat lang."

After I told him I was fine and that I just had something in my throat that made me bark like a rabid dog the night before, he told me with a mix of enthusiasm and dismay that he was still on night shift. I asked him if he was taking the shuttle back to the office, and he replied that no, he would be just taking a cab since he can start work as late as ten in the evening. An abrupt and awkward silence followed afterward. Partly confused about his seemingly random talk with me made me silent, which in turn made him leave my seat earlier than I had wanted. He nodded at me, turned, and walked away, leaving me wishing that I had said something to make him stay longer.

I'd admit I liked him ever since I first saw him: he had the strong eyebrows that makes my insides quiver. I liked him all the more after he decided to shave his head as it made his prominent and tall nose even more attractive. I felt that chance was playing with me when I ended up attending a training on the same schedule he was in, with us being on the same group together. After that workshop, I liked him even more because I saw his enthusiastic personality and his mature and forward way of thinking.

I mustered the courage to add him on Facebook as a friend in the hopes of knowing him at least a little better. Not being a slave of the social networking phenomenon, he accepted my request weeks after I sent it. After today's incident, I'm shallowly wallowing in mixed signals: either he's just a concerned and caring friend, or he's running on the same lane in the road as I am. I'm hoping it's the former, because I will be shattered if he's being nice to make us get to know each other a little more than just friends.

Sunday, January 13, 2013

A tous mes loupés, mes ratés, mes vrais soleilsTo all my failures, all the things I wasted, all my time under the sunTous les chemins qui me sont passés à côtéTo all the paths that I just passed byA tous mes bateaux manqués, mes mauvais sommeilsTo all the boats I missed, all my bad dreamsA tous ceux que je n'ai pas étéTo everything that I've never been

Aux malentendus, aux mensonges, à nos silencesTo all misunderstandings and lies that came from our silencesA tous ces moments que j'avais cru partagerTo all those moments that I thought we had sharedAux phrases qu'on dit trop vite et sans qu'on les penseTo all the phrases we said too fast without meaningA celles que je n'ai pas oséesTo all those that I never dared to sayA nos actes manquésTo all the things we never did

Aux années perdues à tenter de ressemblerTo all those years wasted trying to pretend A tous les murs que je n'aurai pas su briserTo all those walls that I never knew how to break A tout ce que j'ai pas vu, tout près, juste à côtéTo all the things near me that I've failed to seeTout ce que j'aurai mieux fait d'ignorerTo all the things that I should have ignored

Au monde, à ses douleurs qui ne me touchent plusTo all the pains and sufferingsof the world that touch me no moreAux notes, aux solos que je n'ai pas inventésTo all those notes and songs that I haven't inventedTous ces mots que d'autres ont fait rimer qui me tuentTo all those rhyming words that kill me in regretComme autant d'enfants jamais portésLike many innocent children never bornA nos actes manquésTo all the things we never did

Aux amours échouées de s'être trop aiméTo all the love stories that ended because we loved too muchVisages et dentelles croisés juste frôlésTo faces that we crossed and almost missedAux trahisons que je n'ai pas vraiment regrettéesTo betrayals that I haven't carried in regretAux vivants qu'il aurait fallu tuerTo the people alive but are better off dead

A tout ce qui nous arrive enfin, mais trop tardTo all the things that happen to us are buttoo lateA tous les masques qu'il aura fallu porterTo all the masks that we should have wornA nos faiblesses, à nos oublis, nos désespoirsTo all our weaknesses, our forgetfulness, our desperationsAux peurs impossibles à échangerTo all our fears that are impossible to shareA nos actes manquésTo all the things we never did

Wednesday, January 9, 2013

When I was still little, my grandmother, whom we called Nanay, always gave me gentle and loving pats to the leg to lull me to sleep. I was a lola's boy because I didn't sleep beside my mom and dad, rather with Nanay. I remember every time she stopped, I would touch her hand so that she would continue giving me that sense of security so that I can finally chase my creative imagination in my dreams. By time I awaken, her side of the bed was already tidy and made up. Often times, I would open my still sleepy eyes with her already sitting in front of the little altar we had in our room, praying the rosary and saying thanks to the one who made all things possible.

Today marks the eighth year Nanay has ascended to a place of eternal happiness. Eight years ago from today, I lost one of the persons I hold dearest inside my heart.

With some weighty problems burdening my load, I remembered how I always liked Nanay's kind and endearing embrace because I felt safe whenever she was with me. As I stopped by to kindle a few candles in her memory, I wondered if she is proud in whatever I have become and achieved. As I once again took the long walk home for her cause, I felt safe because I knew that wherever I might be, a star beyond the endless sky is always shining its light on me. High in the heavens, Nanay is still patiently giving me her gentle and loving pats. She continues to ease away my pains and sorrows and give me courage in life with the memory of her love.

Tuesday, January 8, 2013

The jeep was cruising along the then empty roads of Commonwealth. It was enjoying its freedom to reign the highway even for a little while. However, the rather dilapidated vehicle abruptly swerved, weaved across several lanes, and ground to an abrupt halt in response to my call.

St. Peter's Parish was quite the distance away from the usual place where I end my commute.

It was a few minutes before midnight when I arrived. I was desperate to find a sincere feeling of peace as I looked up at the cross that was a cerulean beacon of hope. Overwhelmed by the amount of fear from the uncertain, I lit four candles without any intentions of prayer. My eyes vacantly stared at the flames that persevered on the chilly winds that battered them. They burned with vigor at the beginning, but slowly waned as time soldiered on. Cold gusts mocked and reduced their presence, but the four small icons of hope never gave up. They patiently kindled their inner strength and fought bravely not to lose their brilliance. Not letting go, flickering to the point of being extinguished -- they were doing it for my sake.

It was then and there that I found a piece of the peace of mind that I was looking for.

A few minutes past twelve, despite ensconced, I bade farewell to the four candles and thanked them for showing me a glimpse of peace I tearfully wanted to see. Heading home, I passed by the entrance only to be transfixed by the kingly image of the cross. Rays of white illuminated the surrounding darkness, just like the four modest candles that gave me a serene sense of solace. No words escaped my lips, but my heart was overflowing with words of gratitude.

With a humble step, I held onto the peace that I have obtained. My confused mind calmed with each and every stride. My eyes lit up with each new sight I saw. The slow and steady pace of my journey made me once again appreciate the littlest things that made me content before. Everything that passed reassured me that whatever may and will happen, I can always go the distance and take the long walk home.

Tuesday, January 1, 2013

Fifteen minutes before midnight, I found myself sitting on the gutter across our house in anticipation for grand flashes of light blazing across the sky. The thing I liked most about new year was not new resolutions or gatherings with family or friends, but the aerial fireworks that adorned the sky with brilliant colors.

After a few minutes of expectance, the mighty noises roared their presence in the air.

Each time a small dot of light streaked skyward, I found myself looking up with an eager smile on my face. A loud boom ripping the mounting excitement, I felt my insides brim with nostalgia that another year has passed and a new one has come knocking into my life. A shower of bright and spectacular sparks afterwards, I thought what the new year has in store for me.

As I rose from my spot and entered the house, I silently told myself to walk into the sunlight and end the midnight that has given me a surrogate sense of security. Like the fireworks that briefly turned the dark amethyst sky into a flash of day, all I asked from the skies was courage to once again light up my hopes for a brighter tomorrow.